


Kittens of Castamere

by niallslashharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 17:12:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallslashharry/pseuds/niallslashharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Niall catch a kitten. That's literally all it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kittens of Castamere

When Harry pulled into his driveway, he swore he saw a wriggling pair of human legs underneath his neighbor’s car. He quickly shook his head to chase the idea away because, really, it was quite insane. Of course there was the possibility that someone was working on the underbelly of the car, but in that case the legs wouldn’t be wriggling and the car would be on a jack. Harry shook his head one more time to knock out the lingering doubts, then stepped out of his own car.

“Mother Fucker!”

Harry paused, car keys in hand. Well. It appeared the wriggling legs were not merely a figment of his imagination. Unless he was also dreaming up lilting Irish accents that flowed easily over words Harry himself didn’t tend to say.

Harry exited his garage cautiously and saw that the wriggling legs had a torso and a head attached to them now. They belonged to a mussed hair male about Harry’s age with a dirt streaked face and an arm oozing blood from a row of scratches. 

The boy looked up at Harry’s slow approach and offered a crooked smile, “Almost had him. The little bastard got me good.”

Harry had a few questions, but decided the most pressing issue at hand was the blond’s bloodied forearm. 

“Do you need help?” Harry hitched his thumb over his shoulder to indicate his home across the street. “I have band-aides and stuff.”

“Help would be awesome, but not with my arm.”

The boy shrugged his tee-shirt over his head and ripped a long strip of gray fabric off with his teeth. Harry tried not to stare at the other boy’s pale torso, which was lightly dusted with freckles and golden hair. He did not succeed. The boy finished wrapping his torn shirt around his arm and left the remains on the ground at his feet. 

“I could have gotten you gauze or something,” Harry averted his eyes from the other boy’s shirtless torso as the kid grinned.

“Not nearly as fun,” he chirped. “Now, as for the help I do need, there are two wild kittens and I’m hoping to catch them. One looks sick. I want to take it to the vet.”

Harry hesitated. He liked cats as much as the next person, but he wasn’t in the mood to have his skin ripped to shreds by a feral kitten who clearly didn’t want to be caught. 

The boy seemed to sense the no on Harry’s tongue before he spoke it and the blonde quickly tugged his lips down into an exaggerated pout. He blinked up at Harry with crystal eyes and Harry’s will power washed away. 

“Fine,” he sighed. “But I’m not touching it. I have a net in my garage we can use.”

“You, gallant, kitten-saving stranger, are the best person I have ever met. Cat lovers everywhere thank you.”

Harry flicked his hand to wave off the compliment, then ducked into his garage to retrieve the fishing net. When he stepped back outside he noted that his new friend had tied the remnants of his tee-shirt around his head. He finished off the look by smearing two dark streaks of dirt under his eyes.

Harry wondered how one could look so cute while simultaneously looking so stupid, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

They had a kitten to save.

-

Niall, or Captain, as he had asked to be called (when Harry inquired what exactly he was the captain of Niall had responded with a smirk and an answer: The Pussy Patrol) was currently squatting next to the deck of the abandoned house across the street from Harry’s place. He hadn’t moved for five minutes. Harry was a few feet behind him, too far to hand Niall the net and too scared to toss it should the movement startle the kitten.

The kitten in question was licking one of it’s white paws about two arm lengths away from where Niall was crouched. The cat had glanced up at him, but had made no move to run. Sudden movements could set him off though, so Niall and Harry both remained frozen.

Harry didn’t mind too much, because he had a lovely side view of Niall from where he was standing. The blond’s cheeks were flushed under his layer of dirt (“camouflage,” he had insisted very seriously) and Harry wasn’t sure if he should attribute that light pink blessing to the late afternoon sun or Niall’s unwavering concentration. Harry would have liked the flush to be from his presence, but he knew not to get his hopes up.

Without any warning Niall exploded from his crouch and dove for the cat, missing by an inch as the kitten let out a startled yelp and darted away under the deck.   
Niall let out a string of curses that impressed Harry in their ingenuity, but the other boy was grinning when he bounced to his feet. 

“So close,” Niall didn’t seem bothered, despite the swears he had let fly seconds before.

“Are you okay?” Harry moved closer to his companion, eyes locked on the thin line of red that had bisected Niall’s chest. 

Niall spared it a glance before wiping away the drip of blood with the scrap of fabric he had wrapped around his wrist, “I’m fine. There were some thorn bushes down there.” He kicked at the plants that spilled out from under the deck and wound their way around the railings, brows furrowed in concentration.

He spun on Harry suddenly, “Here’s the plan. You go over there, by the steps, and wait. I’ll climb the deck and scare the kitten out from underneath so he’ll be forced to run towards you. Once you see him,” Niall tapped the net, “catch him.”

The curly haired boy nodded, then watched in awe as Niall scaled the deck with an effortless grace that Harry had never been able to achieve. Once he stopped gaping, Harry hurried over to the position Niall had suggested to him. He hung back a bit from the steps so the kitten wouldn’t see him and bolt, but he stayed close enough that he could still reach the steps with his net.

Niall crept across the overgrown mess of the deck, shooting a wink in Harry’s direction a second before he began to stomp his feet loudly on the weathered planks. The kitten shot out from under the deck and Harry didn’t have time to hesitate. He swiped down the net and managed to surprise himself with his accuracy. The kitten let out a yowl and tried to claw his way out of the net, but Niall descended from above and held him down with one hand. He snuck the other hand under the netting and grabbed the gray scruff of the kitten’s neck, freeing him from the confines of Harry’s trap. 

Niall brought the kitten up and snuggled him against his neck, murmuring soft words into the cat’s twitching ears. His fingers soothed the animal’s gray fur, trying to calm him as he struggled to get away. By the time the kitten was settled, Niall had added a new spattering of scratches to his neck and shoulder. 

Niall grinned at Harry over the small ball of fur that rested calmly in the curve of his shoulder, “I’m gonna call him Castamere.”

“Castamere?”

“Yeah, like the song from Game of Thrones. Cause of his claws,” Niall glanced at the cat, a fond smile playing across his lips. “A lion still has claws, and mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours,” Niall’s singing voice was surprisingly beautiful, the haunting melody weaving its way through the overgrowth and suspending time.

They stood in silence, the late afternoon sun filtering softly through the leaves above their heads as Niall’s song echoed in Harry’s mind. 

Niall broke the spell when he reached over and nudged Harry’s arm, “Good work partner.”

“You too,” Harry shoved his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. He was a bit disappointed that they had caught the kitten so quickly. He had been enjoying his time with Niall. “Do you need a ride to the vet or something?”

Niall’s eyes lit up, “Could you do that, mate? That would be awesome.”

-

It wasn’t until they had pulled into the parking lot at the vet that Harry realized Niall was still shirtless. 

And covered in dried blood.

Niall, pre-occupied with whispering nonsensical words into his new pet’s ears, didn’t seem aware of how he looked. Harry, on the other hand, was all too aware of Niall’s looks. 

With Niall’s attention still focused on the cat, Harry climbed into his backseat and dug around until he found what he was looking for. He dropped the well-worn flannel on Niall’s head before snatching a half-empty bottle of water from the floor of his car. 

Niall glanced at him, blue eyes clouded with confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up,” Harry reached over and unwound the soiled shirt from Niall’s head, dampening it with the water he had found. Niall shifted the kitten before titling his neck to give Harry access to scratches. The blonde hummed softly under his breath as Harry gently pressed the cloth to his injuries, making sure to be as careful as possible. He didn’t want to hurt Niall anymore than he already was, though the other boy didn’t really seem to care.

Once Harry had wiped the blood from Niall’s neck and shoulder, he hesitantly reached up to wipe the grime off the blonde’s face. Niall closed his eyes and scrunched his nose adorably as Harry cleaned the dirt from his pale skin, revealing a light smattering of freckles and beauty marks that matched the one on his naked torso.

Satisfied that Niall was clean enough to not get them thrown out, Harry snatched the kitten from his new friend’s grasp. Niall made a soft noise of protest, but shrugged into the flannel that Harry had tossed to him earlier. He buttoned it up halfway before making grabby hands for Castamere. Harry happily handed him back, “Ready?”

Niall tugged the shirt that he had wrapped around his head off with one hand and mussed up his already messy hair, “Yup. Thanks for the ride.” He glanced down at himself, a blush creeping it’s way into his cheeks, “If you give me your number I can call you and, you know, let you know what happens with Castamere.”

“I’ll give you my phone number, but I’m coming in with you,” Harry nudged Niall towards the door. “I’m invested now. You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

-

“I don’t understand why he hates me,” Harry pouted, hand still hovering in mid-air. He had bent to pet Castamere and the cat had taken off with a yowl before Harry could make contact.

“Still traumatized about the net probably,” Niall giggled, skipping over to Harry. He threw his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and smacked a kiss off his lips. “I like you enough for the both of us anyhow.”

A smile quirked the corner of Harry’s lips up, “Yeah, I guess you do.”

Niall beamed up at him with bright blue eyes and Harry captured his lips one more time before pressing their foreheads together, “You’re much cuter than the cat too.”

Niall laughed, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but I appreciate it.”

“Much cuter than the cat,” Harry insisted again. “And you don’t run away when I try to say hi to you.”

“Are those your standards for a boyfriend? Cuter than a cat and not afraid of greetings.” Niall’s eyes were shining as he beamed up at Harry, “I’m not making any promises, but I think we can make this work.”

Harry’s lips brushed Niall’s again, “Don’t even think about getting away. I have a Niall sized net hidden in my garage just in case.”

Niall giggled and wove his fingers through Harry’s silken curls, “You’d never catch me. I’m too quick for you.”

Harry’s fingers hooked the loops of Niall’s jeans and tugged him impossibly closer as he breathed into the soft skin of his neck, “Looks like I already did.”


End file.
